


I regret this

by Doot



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Drugged Sex, I hate myself, Kinda? more like hallucinating, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Rough Sex, dude i dunno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-16
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-11-01 13:17:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10922568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doot/pseuds/Doot
Summary: A time for trickery, to be fooled by appearances. The senses betraying one, to see without understanding. To experience a lie without realizing it to be a facade.





	I regret this

**A time for trickery, to be fooled by appearances. The senses betraying one, to see without understanding. To experience a lie without realizing it to be a facade.**

 

He was a mess, truly vulnerable now. Vocal, crying out a name again and again as movements hastened. It wasn’t shocking that Ignis was as good as this, no, and he cursed himself for shutting down every step that would have ultimately been brought to this. Sweat glistened on his body, sliding down his brow and bare torso. His back arched when a spot was brushed, letting out a sound so foreign to his throat he wasn’t sure if it was him that had made it. Mind shutting down, too lost in it to try and form thoughts. His mouth hung open, coords resonating to force sounds from him to show he was still conscious. Eyes stayed shut, coming open once in a while to see the one atop him. To see his expression of pure ecstasy as things carried on, to know this was good for him as well.

But as hands grabbed the sheets beneath him to anchor himself, as his mouth formed the name of his trusted advisor, there was an ache in Ignis’ chest. One that forced him to know none of this was real. That his king, Noctis, was taken from him before he could stop it. It was out of his grasp, his power, to try. And he hated himself for it.

Close to the end, it stopped. Pulling from within before he could finish. It was cruel, an act such as this, but it would prove to be a show of power over the one too lost in it to realize his absolute domination. A hand wrapped around him, thumb pressed over the tip, to keep from anything spilling out. Mouth still agape, it gave Ignis easy entry to him. A tongue slipping in, creating even more of a mess for the both of them. Something to keep that high, to let him believe it a little longer, to keep control.

It was agonizing to watch, to know the lies in his mind would not cease until _he_ let it end. Every second was torture, but the purr of the king, the way he moaned for _him_. To see it with his own eyes and be powerless to make it stop. To take Noctis away from here, to free him of this. He hated the tightness of his trousers, the way it became worse with each breathless gasp of his name.

Disconnected, a hand twisted in Noct’s hair to pull him up. Ignis shifted, leaning himself back while keeping a firm grip on the prince. He was pushed down, head forced down to meet what waited for him. He swallowed it, in time, feeling the tip of it brush against the roof of his mouth with each bob of his head. Then came the burst, and he choked on the mix of the fluids of the man and the thick saliva. It spilled over his lips, dribbling down to his chin where it dripped on the sheets beneath the two.

His legs crossed, trying to hide his arousal from the two before him. Ignis knew how that was, how Noctis had a tendency to hum over him. The feeling of him engulfing what rested beneath a few strips of fabric. What he now pressed against the fabric in an effort to stop the numbness between his thighs. Something to create some amount of friction to make it stop.

Resuming what they had paused, Noctis lay bare once more. Spread wide to make it easy, waiting for it with a certain eagerness. He needn’t wait long. The push, what he had fallen so madly for. The feeling of fullness and of knowing there was nothing else he would want now. No thoughts crossed his mind, he acted on instinct alone. What remained was a wreck, just as he was about to be. Yet it was so agonizingly slow, but with each movement pushing deeper within himself, he was lost once more. The feeling alone was enough, no spot grazed again and again, to bring a rise to him once more.

A slow grind of his hips, moving in place. There wasn’t enough to finish the job, but it was something to hold him over. To not beg for something from the two. He wouldn’t be lowered to something as vile as this corrupted _Chancellor_ that had taken his majesty from him. Ardyn was full of tricks, it seemed, and each was more disgusting as the last. To see Noctis an utter mess for the likes of that snake. To watch his face burn red and gasp Ignis’ name, when it wasn’t him at all. That this was fake. An act. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from saying a word. He was against it from the start, threatening Ardyn and pleading for him to stop before realizing this was out of his control. This alone would break his mind.

It was faster now, the chosen breathless once more. He arched his back, hands grabbing at the sheets beneath him. He was pleading for release, for the speed to increase, for something to stop it. But _Ardyn_ kept a firm hand at the base of Noctis, keeping him from the end for as long as he could. He himself was already close, and his eyes trailed to Ignis. To see the way he ground his hips against his trousers, beads of sweat rolling down along the side of his face. To know the two struggling with the same thing. It was the most pleasurable thing he had experienced in a long while, one he would get the most out of. Ardyn let himself go, let him fill the king with his seed. The expression on said king had shifted, infatuated with the fullness that came from it. But he continued to beg for the same, for the release as Ardyn unleashed himself fully.

The look he was given set a fire in his heart, made his blood boil with a ferocity that was oft left extinguished. He hated the man, hated this chancellor, hated the way he used his majesty to this extent. Hated to know he was now _tainted_. He felt his own pulse in what strained ‘tween his legs. The throb of it aching for the same thing Noctis was, to need the same release of it. No such thing would be given, though, that was clear.

The pace picked up again, Ardyn moving hastily to build himself back up. To fill their sacred chosen, to corrupt him. He pushed farther, coaxed moans from his throat to send him off the edge. It was sloppily done, and not as large as the last, but it happened. A filling once more, and another to follow it soon enough. A slight bulge rested in the king’s stomach now, a disgusting fullness made by the accursed. Noctis’ throat was sore from his cries as Ardyn had pushed into him, becoming too rough. His voice hoarse, he still begged. Begged for one time, for it to be done. For him to let go the way Ardyn had. Or, in Noct’s mind, the way Ignis had. He was building again, Ardyn was, but slower. The way it had been before, the brush against a spot to let him rise. His hand was removed from the base, and instead slipped behind Noctis’ head to press into another kiss. A nauseating deepness to it, forceful as a display of power.

Ignis could only watch, too horrified with the act to look away. To watch them meet once more, with the same motions Noctis and himself had shared. To see it now sickened. He hated the way Noctis cried out Ignis’ name, hated how it wasn’t himself within his majesty. He couldn’t give him such pleasure, fill him to the brim the way he could. He hated the way the throb continued, hated the arousal from this situation. Hated the chancellor for being so twisted. Hated the way he ceaselessly bucked in an attempt to get friction.

It was close for the both of them now, something that drove Noctis mad once more. To be this close without release, and nothing blocking him. Ardyn’s hand went down to him, pumping with each push into the prince. A steady pace for the both of them as the kiss was broken. Left gasping for air, hands brushing along the back of the chancellor, he was on the edge of it. All he had to do was jump and it would be done. And when it came, when the both of them did, it was Ignis’ name once more that rang out of his throat. His mess shooting onto his stomach, too lost in the feeling to care about anything else. Eyes rolling back, more still oozing from him, Ardyn withdrew from the wreck that was the chosen. He watched what he pushed into him slide back out, making what they lay on even more of a mess. He looked to Ignis, who looked feverish and out of his mind, before smiling simply.

How cruel it was of him to steal something so pure.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah so this was a thing. I dunno, here it is for whoever wants it.


End file.
